


A Little Tumble

by Drag0n_Fire



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream Smp, Gen, Injury, Swearing, there's exactly one swear word but still, there's nothing graphic, this is about the characters in the dream smp and not about any real people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:49:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0n_Fire/pseuds/Drag0n_Fire
Summary: Tommy is 14 when he is finally strong enough to throw Fundy over his shoulder like a sack of Technoblade’s potatoes.---“What happened?” Wilbur asks in a concerned voice, but Tommy doesn’t feel like Wilbur is concerned for him.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & TommyInnit, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 174





	A Little Tumble

**Author's Note:**

> I just wrote this after thinking about how Tommy is kind of Fundy's uncle. Canon is not something I was meant to understand, much less time, so for the sake of this work, let's just say Fundy is a bit younger than Tommy, at least here.

Tommy is 14 when he is finally strong enough to throw Fundy over his shoulder like a sack of Technoblade’s potatoes. A shriek is pulled out of Fundy’s mouth, and a laugh bursts out of Tommy. They both start giggling and it causes Tommy to jostle Fundy around, which makes them laugh harder. Fundy’s paw gently patting Tommy’s back and his delighted gasps spur Tommy to take a few shaky steps forward. As they move, Tommy’s steps become less and less halted and their laughter bubbles louder. They are still laughing when Tommy trips on a stray stone and sends them tumbling hard into the rocky earth.

The ground flies up to meet Tommy’s skull, and his arm is bent awkwardly under a warm weight that his shocked mind no longer recognizes. The flash of initial pain becomes a pulsing ache that in the moment Tommy can’t recall living without. There is a sound that he tells himself is crying, though he can’t remember what crying is over the sound of the world rotating around him as he begins to move again, sliding down against stony punches until his chest hits something. The something scratches through his shirt like tree bark, but he is oblivious to trees and bark at the moment.

There is a wail. It is sharp against Tommy’s brain. His hands twitch with the need to cover his ears, but he won’t move. He feels his twitching fingers brush against something soft, a shirt, not his, he thinks. That is important somehow.

Shouts come into the world and join the taste in Tommy’s mouth that makes his stomach churn. He feels sound come out of his mouth as he slowly turns his head.

There is a shout above him, but then it is moving out of sight, and his fingers are missing something and he realizes that it is the important thing, the shirt that is not his. His arms come to life, pushing him up, and then the words come to life, too.

“-you okay?! Oh my god, oh my god, are you okay?! Are you okay?!”

Tommy realizes that the important thing is not the shirt, but who was wearing the shirt.

“-Fundy-”

He looks for Fundy’s eyes but it’s Wilbur’s eyes he finds instead.

“Of course you’re not okay!” Wilbur is holding Fundy in his lap, which confuses Tommy because he is pretty sure that it isn’t late after Fundy’s bedtime when Wilbur is not stubborn enough to make him go to bed. That has not happened in a long time. What is happening is that Fundy is crying, because he is hurt, because he fell, because of Tommy.

“Tommy!”

His blood runs cold, freezing the joints that he needs to at least maneuver himself into a sitting position.

“What happened?” Wilbur asks in a concerned voice, but Tommy doesn’t feel like Wilbur is concerned for him.

“We-we were just messing around-”

His thoughts are not able to order themselves before they must make room for more of Wilbur’s words. “What did you _do_?”

“I-I, uh, I-I trip-I tripped-”

“You are so irresponsible, Tommy!” This is not what Wilbur is supposed to say when his little brother is hurt. “You have no caution, whatsoever! Why, why, why,” Wilbur takes his hand away from Fundy to rub at the scrunched space between his eyebrows, “ _Why_ do you do this? Do you not care? Do you just not care about anything, is that it?”

Tommy is lost and he can’t remember which question came first, or any of the questions. He has no answers for Wilbur, but he can tell that Wilbur is upset with him. No, angry with him. At him.

“It would be different if it was just yourself!” Wilbur wraps his arms protectively around Fundy, angling him away from Tommy. He continues to yell over his son’s sniffles and sobs, “But it isn’t! You are endangering other people with your recklessness! You-You could have _killed_ him!” Wilbur looks more scared than Fundy when he says this. He looks haunted by a ghost that does not exist yet. Tommy is 14, but looking into his older brother’s wide eyes, he feels a fear much older.

“You couldn’t even take care of your nephew-your _nephew_ , for one minute! One fucking minute!” Tommy watches Wilbur rock back and forth with Fundy, but he doesn’t know who he’s trying to comfort.

A sound comes from Fundy, not very sob-like, taking on the shape of words. They do not have the chance to become a sentence. Wilbur puts a hand on the back of Fundy’s head and guides him into his shoulder. Fundy’s voice is swallowed by Wilbur’s jacket. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, Fundy. It will be okay. Let’s go. Let’s go get you fixed up,” Wilbur murmurs into Fundy’s fur, pressing Fundy against him forcefully.

Wilbur seems to forget about Tommy altogether, all of his attention focused on shushing Fundy. He stands up with shaky legs, but walks away steadily. Tommy is hit with both déjà vu and nostalgia at once, watching Wilbur walk away with Fundy in his arms. Tommy’s buzzing mind decides to focus on the nostalgia, the reminder of when Wilbur would scoop up an already asleep Fundy and cradle him in his arms like an infant before quietly tucking him in with a small kiss to the forehead and insisting that everyone be quiet as possible to avoid waking his son. 

Tommy startles when he sees Tubbo standing over him offering a hand. Tubbo’s eyes are wide and his mouth is twitching as if he’s the one that’s been yelled at. Tommy doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there, but he doesn’t care. With the help of his friend, he slowly lifts himself off the ground.

“You okay?” Tubbo asks with the secrecy of a traitor, not letting go of Tommy’s hand.

Tommy notices something on his face, but when he goes to itch it away, his fingertips come away wet with tears. “I’m fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> The great thing about having parent problems is it makes it easier for me to write characters like Wilbur, who is a nice combination of a helicopter parent but also being emotionally distant and unavailable and just all around only being there for Fundy when it's convenient for himself, y'know? Idk, just my thoughts as I wrote this. I also sprinkled in some of that paranoia that Wilbur succumbs to later. (no i'm not projecting any of my experiences onto fictional characters /j)


End file.
